


Ronnie Scott's Last Dance

by bonsnott



Category: AC/DC
Genre: Dancing, Dark, Death, F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13935405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonsnott/pseuds/bonsnott
Summary: A pathology assistant invites Ronnie for one last dance





	Ronnie Scott's Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT!   
> I am not a necrophile nor do I support necrophilia. The characters involved in this story are not necrophiles. This fanfic is based off of the song, "Mary Jane's Last Dance" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It is merely meant for enjoyment.  
> Please review and give advice if you want. It's much appreciated. :)

I see them... so many of them day after day. Flesh cold as stone and blue under the light. The bodies of people of all backgrounds lay on metal tables so that we may identify the cause of death. Today was the same. It was nothing I hadn't seen before. However, the blasé of my job melted away when I saw a familiar face in one of the body bags. It was the one I've waited for. I remember him. He grew up in Kirriemuir, Scotland. He wasn't the best decision maker, but his parents raised him right. When he was a younger man, he moved to Fremantle. I met him at a concert for The Valentines, the band he was in at the time. Obviously, he was older now. He had aged so much since then. The wrinkles in his face were so much clearer. After the show, a friend of mine introduced me to him. 

"Hello, I'm Bon," he said cheerfully and he shook my hand. Surprisingly, he asked me for a dance during the after party. I was quite confused and asked him if he was talking to me.   
"Yes, you," he said, "Come on. Get up and dance with me."

Hesitantly, I took his hand and we danced together. After we were through, I asked him to stay a bit longer, but he said he had to keep moving.   
I put my gloves on to inspect the body. I touched his face first. His physiognomy was like that of an angel. Tracing his cheekbone and jawline might give most people chills, but not me. I felt warm inside again. After so many days in this cold place, I feel the same as I did when I first met him. Rubbing my thumb against his lip, it bent sideways. I pulled it down to look at his teeth, which had rotted away to some degree. Some were missing. Then I lifted up his eye lids to look at his eyes. Green. Absolutely green. Then I took his hands. His hands used to be so gentle with mine and they felt softer than they do now. Now they were rougher and blotchy. I wanted to hold them again. This is where I needed to be. Right here with him. I wanted to stay with him longer. So, I zipped him back up in the bag and heaved up his body from the metal table onto a stretcher. After that, I wheeled him out into the hallway. The security guard might have thought that what I was doing was a bit weird, but he figures that I know more of the subject of death and corpses than he does, so he didn't intervene.


End file.
